Wednesday, 16 January 2013

Urban Diary

The absence of sound is eerie. Here it is, the long, (almost) straight queue of football fans leaving the stadium on a semi-dark winter Sunday mid-afternoon. Through my car window (rolled up to avoid the cold wind) I watch them shuffling along quietly. I interpret the smiles on some faces as success on the pitch. Suddenly I am curious. I might not support this specific football team but their current manager used to coach the club I follow until a year ago and opinions on his performance so far have been divided. I open the car window a few inches. A chilly breeze, that feels as soft on my face as a taffeta handkerchief, steals in. I ask a man carrying a boy on his shoulders what the score was. One nil to them. The white cockerel on the left of his jacket is covered by one of the boy’s legs. My attention turns back to the road. The traffic builds up quickly and what should have been a half-hour round trip to the barber’s becomes a three-quarters-of-an-hour return journey home.

The crowd might be muted (by the cold weather, perhaps? Or maybe by the fact that a Belgian defender who played in Holland until last summer scored the winning goal under the careful gaze of a Portuguese manager in the English Premier League? Perhaps fans are still coming to terms with football’s globalisation phenomenon, its pros and cons?), but I am sure their stomachs are rumbling. As befits the modern, standard post-match routine the nearby takeaways and fast food joints beckon. Still holding plastic cups with lukewarm, watered down, tasteless and colourless tea in their hands, many fans pay a visit to Jerky’s (Caribbean grill), Tennessee Express (chicken & ribs) or McDonald’s (…and the little folk/who share a joke/who nudge and poke/about that bloke/who slurps his Coke/and gives his goatee beard a stroke/were just passing by…). There are also those who opt for a pint and stay behind at The Coach and Horses.

And another thank you for the excursion. None of those take-aways appeal. Sad, but true. Perhaps the football fans were quiet because they had yelled themselves hoarse during the game?Another lovely post. Thank you.

Fly Girl, football fans usually have tea AFTER the game. Like you, I prefer good old fish'n'chips. Funny enough, I can't recall off the top of my head if there's a chippie near where I usually have my hair cut. There are however a couple of kebab shops. Have no idea whether they're good or not, but at least they offer an alternative to McDonald's.

Elephant's Child, you're quite right. Maybe they'd lost their voices. They certainly did at the beginning of the season when they wanted their manager out!

football’s globalisation phenomenon...this is really something that for me took a lot away of the spell...i mean where's the fun when those that have most money just buy the players they wanna have and get them the right passport... ugh...could discuss this for hours..a piece of red tissue for me...makes me crazy wild..even though i'm not a bull...smiles

I must say I still find it a little odd, football clubs being international companies these days! A really enjoyable post, though, you really caught the flavour of the crowd leaving the ground and the thoughts that run through the mind. Thanks for this one.

Many thanks for your comments. Yes, football as business rather than entertainment and/or prowess. I confess that I fell for Chelsea for their flair on the pitch, but I admit that the owner, Abramovich, is a negative influence for the club. The English Premier Leagues has become Premiership Ltd, yet another company, a cash cow for those with the money to buy clubs and turn them into their playthings.

Great description of a post-sports match scene! Brought back the memories of when we lived a street away from Wanderer's cricket grounds - except it was always summer, and the sky was dark with the threatening Highveld rainstorms, not with the winter cold. But, London or Johannesburg, the sombre mood of a losing home team is still the same.

Judy, the fans' team had just won. That's why I was puzzled by their muted reaction. But maybe, as Elephant's Child pointed out before, they had yelled themselves hoarse by the time I spoke to the man and his son. :-)

About Me

Look well to this day for it is life,
the very best of life. In its brief course lie all the realities and truths of existence, the joy of growth, the splendour of action, the glory of power. For yesterday is but a memory and tomorrow is only a vision. But today if well-lived makes every yesterday a memory of happiness and every tomorrow a vision of hope. Look well therefore to this day.
(Ancient Sanskrit Poem)